


Of puppies and hens

by MadamLegba



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, One Shot, Tumblr Prompt, Villaneve, puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24630481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamLegba/pseuds/MadamLegba
Summary: Prompt: Eve and Villanelle get a puppy and have a hard time naming it.In addition: broken umbrellas, mouthfuls of pasta and a little argy-bargy.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 2
Kudos: 92





	Of puppies and hens

“For the last time, no. We’re not getting a puppy.”  
Eve sighs as she tiredly takes off her wet coat which soon finds its place on the tiny table at the entrance.   
“Now you’re just being stubborn.” Villanelle closes the door right behind her. When she passes a hand through her hair she’s glad to find it dry, unlike Eve’s. “And you should reaaally learn to take an umbrella with you all the time.”

“They’re not really my thing.”   
Villanelle laughs softly behind her. “Pneumonia is?”  
Eve tsks in reply. Outside the rain is pouring and some droplets manage their way in the small apartment through a forgottenly unclosed vasistas window.   
“They break all the time, at the minimum breeze, puff: broken. If I had to take an umbrella with me every time it rained I’d be skint by now.”   
The younger woman mutters something along the line of _that_ not being far from reality, but the Eve is not listening, busy as she is in a freeing change into warmer, drier, more comfortable clothes.

“You’re really lucky to have such a caring girlfriend who knows you so well and picks you up from work right when you need her the most.”   
Modesty has never been her forte, but that continuous bragging demeanor was part of her charm.   
Eve shakes her head, she has to bite her tongue in order not to address the girlfriend issue.   
They hadn’t really discussed their relationship yet and maybe she didn’t feel as ready to be in a relationship with Villanelle as she wanted, but she really didn’t feel like having another argument.  
Villanelle’s warm hands find their way around Eve’s waist as the older woman is putting a cooking pot full of water on the fire. “I think a puppy would help.”  
“Help?” Eve gives her a quizzical look when she turns around to face her. “What for?”  
Villanelle shrugs. “Sharing a living being might help us get past our…trust issues?”  
“Are you asking me or are you telling me?”  
The russian’s grey cat-like eyes rolls as the woman sighs in compliance, already running out of patience.   
“Look, we’ve already been through this whole matter. We’re not getting a puppy.” Eve’s voice is resolute. Tired as she is after an incredibly dull day at work, the last thing she wished she would have done with her new flat-mate was to argue over a problem they had already addressed several times in just a few days. “Set the table, will you? I don’t think it’ll take more than ten minutes.”  
“No.”   
“Villanell––“  
“No.”  
Although the pout she’s facing is rather corrupting, Eve closes her eyes to collect all her self-control in order to keep calm. “Now who’s being stubborn?”  
“I just don’t see why we can’t have a pet. You had one with Fudgestache.”   
As Villanelle crosses her arms across her chest the realization hits her and Eve finally understands where all of this came from.   
When Villanelle mentioned for the first time her desire to get a pet, only three days ago to be precise, Eve had one of those moments where you can’t really tell if you’re living in a dream or if you’re actually awake. It just didn’t really feel right, the woman had never shown any particular interest in animals before, if anything she actually gave out the impression of being a non-pet kind of person.  
 _Jealousy.  
_ “What did you just call him?”  
“Don’t change the subject!”  
Once again Eve sighs in order not to give in to her impulsivity. She looks at the blonde woman as if she was trying to read the thoughts running behind those cat-like eyes.   
Uncertain, she tries to soften her, to make her reason, with what little she remembers from her passed life. “ _Kotku–”  
“_Don’t speak Polish to me, _kotik_.” The correction is spit out in pure venom.  
“Kotik.” Eve repeats in a low whisper, mainly to stick it and fix it in her head. Well, _kotku, kotik,_ sounded quite similar to her.“A chicken hardly fits as a pet.”  
“There, another reason to get a real one.” The blonde woman states all but calmly, running her fingers through her hair and resting her back against the kitchen’s counter. “Why not a dog?”   
“As I’ve already told you, we don’t have neither the time nor the space needed for a pet. I mean, look around you. This apartment has barely any space left for you and me, let alone for a dog.” Eve recites her part like an actress at her hundredth performance of the week.  
“Not even a small one?”  
“Oh, you don’t like small ones.”  
Villanelle looks at Eve like she wants to stab her, but in less than a second her glance soften. She can’t really contradict Eve just for the sake of it, she wouldn’t bear living with a small, rat-like dog.   
“What about another chicken, then?”  
Eve can’t help but laugh at the suggestion. “Do you honestly think you could ever possibly cope living with a chicken?”  
“Yes.” She’s resolute. The features of her face would trick anyone into thinking she actually means that word, but her partner knows better.  
They keep their eyes locked in silence in what appears to be a powerplay based on a staring. Eventually, the younger gives in. “No.”   
Knowing how much of a sore loser Villanelle can be, Eve decides not to mock her. She moves towards the sink, to drain the pasta as if nothing ever happened.

“A parrot?”  
“Wouldn’t that be, like, a smaller chicken in technicolor?”

“…no?” Villanelle helps her, offering two empty plates where Eve places two abundant portions of macaroni.  
“What an absurdity, Eve. Of course not. They’re much smarter and smaller.” She places the smoking dishes on the table, one in front of the other. “Think about it, it’d be ideal: since we have _no space_ on the ground, we can buy something that won’t spend much time occupying it. It’ll live in our air, we’re so full of it, look at how empty our apartment is! There is literally nothing levitating midair, no ghosts or whatsoever.” She slightly slicks out her bottom lip and shrugs, confident with her solution.

“Chickens are actually smart. Did you know they can count to three?”  
“What?” Villanelle stops mid-action from picking up the fork. Out of all the things she was anticipating, she surely hasn’t seen _that_ coming.  
“Mh-hm” Eve confirms, covering her mouth, full of pasta, with the palm of her hand as she speaks. “If you put a single grain of corn in front of it and three away from it, the chicken will go for the one with three grains. However, if you do the same trick with a group of four grains of corn and a group of five, it won’t know the difference.”  
Villanelle stares at her like she’s looking at a funny-looking, recently-discovered new specie of human. For a second, Eve actually fears a limb has sprouted out of her head.   
“Did you actually try it out or are you making it up to impress me?”  
“Niko told me.”   
Villanelle makes a gagging sound as soon as she hears that name.   
“Oh, and we’re not getting a parrot, by the way. No four-legged nor two-legged animal will ever be allowed in this apartment.”

* * *

“Hello?” She locks the entrance door right behind her, making sure it’s closed for good.  
Her call doesn’t get a reply, hence she presumes she’s alone.  
Eve takes off her soaked coat – that’s what you get when you willingly leave your umbrella home and your girlfriend doesn’t come pick you up at work – and closes her eyes to detach from yet another dull day of work.  
She checks her phone for unread messages once again, but her screen is empty: no unread messages, no missed calls, no voicemails.   
She tries to tell herself to keep calm, she repeats in her mind that there’s no reason to think something might have happened to Villanelle – if anything, the Russian woman had proved many times she could perfectly take care of herself.   
On the other hand, Eve couldn’t help but obsess about the situation. It wasn’t like Villanelle to give her a total silence treatment.   
Eve checks her phone once again, then she opens their chat to read her last received messages. 

_We’ll fuck, what are you going to do?  
_ _Well* autocorrect  
You know what? The first text sounds better. ;)_

Eve smiles at her phone, shaking her head as she takes off her shoes and sits at the table. She then takes her phone close to her ear, waiting for Villanelle’s phone to ring.  
When she hears the familiar ringtone coming from the “bedroom” Eve doesn’t contain a scream of surprise, taken aback by the unexpected sound.   
“Jesus fucking Christ!”  
A loud chuckle follows shorty after. Villanelle is lucky Eve has nothing but her phone at easy reach and she’s not mad enough to throw it at her just for the sake of getting her back for that poor prank. After all, it’s not like she’d be able to buy a proper phone at the moment.  
“How long have you–– what are you doing in bed!?”  
“Sleeping?” The younger woman offers, yawning theatrically. “I had a very tiring day. I’m –– what is it that you say? _Knackered_.”   
“I don’t think I’ve ever said that.” At least, she thinks. “Didn’t you notice it started raining again?”  
“Huh?”   
“It was raining. I’m soaked. I thought you––”

“Would come pick you up with an umbrella?” Villanelle doesn’t get up from bed, although the blanket behind her is moving every now and then. “I thought umbrellas weren’t your thing.”   
Eve sighs tiredly, but she doesn’t argue back. The only thing she needs right now is just some human warmth, a hug, perhaps. “Shush it.”  
She gestures for Villanelle to scoot over, but as soon as the woman complies a small, acute whimper catch her attention.  
Eve sends her a quizzical look, “was that––”  
“Me?”  
“What–– what’s in there?”  
“Me?” Villanelle repeats, this time with a wide, smug grin on her face.  
“Villanelle.”  
“That is my name, yes.” She ponders her words as Eve is clearly trying her best not to lose her temper. “Well, actually, not my name _name_ but…”  
“What are you hiding under that blanket? I swear to god, if that’s a dog––”  
“Ok, Eve, relax.” This time the blonde woman sits up straight on the bed, revealing a small, excited honey-coloured little cub. “It won’t hurt you.”  
“It won’t hurt me?” The woman repeats, incredulous. “ _I_ will _hurt you._ ”  
Villanelle’s laugh is sincere and loud, it fills the apartment and resounds, bouncing on the walls. “Oh, Eve. What are you going to do, stab me again?”  
“I might.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, collecting all the patience she has in her body.  
When she opens her eyes again, a ball of light-coloured fur with dark chocolate eyes is looking at her expectantly.   
“Eve?”  
The stillness of the situation is mitigated only by the wiggling puppy tail and it’s only when Eve notices its tail moving that another peculiar feature hits her.  
She inhales deeply, not really know where to start with the woman seated on her bed. When she talks again her voice is low and it sounds like a growl. “Why…”  
“Eve?”  
“…did you..”  
“Eve, listen up.”  
“…take in my house…”  
“Just, remember what you told me last night––”   
“… a three-legged puppy?”  
“–– ‘ _no four-legged nor two-legged animals’_ that’s what you said.” Villanelle recites, gently caressing the puppy’s head. “This one has three.”  
“I see it.” Eve is seething. She would feel like laughing, really, if only she wasn’t a step away from murder.  
“So it stays?”

The older woman looks at her partner with utter disbelief. She realizes she’d love to feel mad but truth be told she’s actually fascinated by Villanelle’s ploy.  
“Where did you even find it?”  
“I’ll take that as a yes.”   
“Did you…” Eve doesn’t really know how to voice her doubt. “Did you… do that to him?”  
Villanelle looks puzzled. “Do what?”  
“Its leg.”   
Villanelle’s eyebrows are low, her eyes look around the room as if the answer was written here and there on the apartment walls. “I would never.”  
“I think you would. Did you?”  
The blonde woman clicks her tongue, looking quite offended by the thought alone. “No. It wouldn’t really be a good way to start a parentship.”  
“Parent _hood_.” She corrects her. “Then what happened?”  
“No idea.” The Russian girl shrugs mindlessly, looking pridefully at the small puppy. “But it’s a strong one. You have to be a tough one to survive on three legs.”  
Eve has hardly ever heard Villanelle that genuinely satisfied and happy. As time goes by, it becomes harder and harder for her to believe the blonde woman wanted a puppy only out of mere jealousy.   
“For now it can stay.” She concedes. _God knows, maybe it’ll be therapeutic for both of them_.  
“Good, because I’ve already bought a kennel, two bowls a huge sack of dry food, a leash and a collar.”  
She nods towards the bathroom and Eve can’t understand how is it possible that she hasn’t noticed it on her way in. Just outside the bathroom, near the wooden door, lies everything Villanelle has listed.   
“You’ve really thought of everything.”   
The younger woman smiles, another loud whimper catches their attention. “Not really, there’s still something missing.”  
Eve silently looks at the funny duo on the bed. “An antiparasitic?”  
“No, silly. A name.”   
“Oh.” Eve sits on the edge of the overcrowded bed, then she looks at the stump wondering what had happened to that poor puppy’s back leg.   
“How about Tris?” She offers, not really sure herself.  
“I’m not walking in the park with a dog named tris, Eve. It lacks fashion.”  
Eve bites her tongue, stopping herself from voicing her thoughts about that incredibly superficial comment. “Trzy?”  
“Over my dead body, I’m not calling him anything Polish. _Troika_ is your new trzy.”  
“God forbid, I’ll be reminded of the European Commission every time we call his name.”  
Villanelle snorts, her patience running thin.  
“How about Lucky? He sure is a tough one, but if he survived being crushed then he’s also lucky. Never mind he happened to be adopted by a cool mum like me. If that ain’t Lucky…”  
Eve shivers at the suggestion, remembering her childhood in Connecticut. “The name Lucky is a death sentence for a dog. All the dogs I’ve known with that name have passed away tragically.”  
“Are you superstitious?” Villanelle lifts an eyebrow, quite surprised.  
“No, but I’m not risking it.”  
“See? You’re already attached.”   
They think in silence for some time, looking for the most fitting name.   
“Maybe we should just settle for ‘Dog’.” Eve lays her back on the mattress, her hair is still somewhat wet.  
“That’s so basic.” Villanelle rests the back of her head against the headboard. She then bolts up with an idea. “Wait! I know!”  
Eve looks at her quizzically, but she doesn’t get up as the unnamed puppy is now sleeping on her belly.   
“We should call him _Chicken._ ”  
Eve’s laugh starts slowly before it explodes in the room. “ _Chicken_.” She repeats, tasting the name on her lips.  
“Yes. You used to have one, I think it’s going to make it more familiar for you.”  
“How thoughtful of yours.” Eve smiles, opening her eyes lazily to take a good look at the puppy. “ _Chicken.”  
_ She feels the mattress moving and in less than a heartbeat Villanelle’s face is at just a few inches from hers. “I think he likes it.”  
“He hasn’t even moved!” Eve protests with a smile on her lips. She’s always had a thing for the Russian girl’s stubbornness. Once she was had an idea on her mind, there was no way of making her think otherwise.   
“Exactly. If he didn’t like it, he would have barked. Silly woman.”   
Eve feels Villanelle’s warm lips against her temple.

“Alright then. But I’m not going to the shop to ask for a nameplate with the name ‘Chicken’ written on it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt: Eve and Villanelle get a puppy and have a hard time naming it but settle on chicken because Eve used to have a chicken.
> 
> Once again, sorry for butchering your noble language, I'm trying my best. :| Feel free to submit prompts or fanfic ideas at @madam-legba on Tumblr.   
> Hope you enjoyed it half as much as I enjoyed writing this!  
> xx -ML


End file.
